


The Moon That Breaks the Night

by nilchance



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4624161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/pseuds/nilchance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cougar is the one who gets to convince Jensen to take painkillers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moon That Breaks the Night

“No,” Jensen says immediately. “No way.”

Cougar sits in the full glare of Jensen’s frustration, the two white pills in the cup of his hand. His expression is mild. It’d be like he’s waiting for a bus, if Cougar did anything as mundane as take public transportation. A bus in their motel room. Maybe the bus that Jensen secretly thinks ran over him and backed up a few times.

It’s only a little soft tissue damage. The kind that comes from being worked over by the thugs that the US military hires to do that dirty work. Graduating from Special Forces training requires a rotation in the torture school to see if (and how) the recruit will crack-- which is better than learning how to torture others, Jensen wouldn’t have graduated then. Jensen recognized the tactics, is what he’s saying. They even went in the same order, like it was on a syllabus in their heads. They don’t leave many marks for proof, except for one recruit who got a little knife-happy.

(The words ‘traitor’ burn hot in the small of Jensen’s back.)

The team came for him; Clay was like the righteous fist of God, tearing through that place, though Jensen was maybe hallucinating a little by then. And Cougar... Cougar didn’t leave anybody alive.

Jensen will recover. He always does. And in the meantime, it doesn’t even hurt that goddamn much. Not enough to dope himself up, anyway.

“No,” Jensen repeats, for emphasis. “Nein. Non. No. I already told Clay this.”

Cougar raises his eyebrows. Says nothing.

“Am I talking to myself?” Exasperated, Jensen smacks at Cougar’s hand.

Real fast, Cougar yanks himself out of the way, some real Mr. Miyagi bullshit. Then he gives Jensen a look, like he’s the one being unreasonable. His voice is dusty; he probably hasn’t said much in the past few days (week?) since Jensen first got captured. “You’re in pain.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, “that’s torture for you.”

“You haven’t slept.”

“Is there a fucking echo in here? Because I’m pretty sure Clay already ran this by me. With a bonus side of ‘this is an order, Corporal.’” When Cougar continues giving him the dirtiest look in the history of ever, Jensen sighs. “I slept. After you got me out.”

“Unconscious.”

“I was horizontal.”

“Jensen.”

“We already lost like a week. Aisha wants to choke me, Max has probably decided to use his giant laser beam to destroy the moon, I don’t-- Christ.” Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jensen pretends he isn’t stupidly blurry-eyed. He is tired, he is hurting, but he also wants to get the fuck out of his skin. He wants to be someone else for a while, and if he can’t do that, he wants to lose himself in lines of code. Nobody wants to just let him do his job. “I don’t want to take those fucking pills, Coug. Okay? I don’t.”

After a long humming stretch of quiet, Cougar reaches out. Jensen flinches for a second, and hates himself for doing it. Cougar doesn’t react, though, he only rests his hand on Jensen’s shoulder. His skin is blessedly cool. It reminds Jensen of years ago, chicken pox, his sister trying to feel his temperature like their mom did when she was really as lost as he was.

“I have your back,” Cougar says. From the way he says it, he isn’t sure that’s worth much anymore.

Fuck. “I know that, man.” Jensen leans his head over to bump Cougar’s arm. It’s rough affection, but it’s what he’s got at the moment. He swallows once, hard, and manages to choke out the stupid little kid reason behind the curtain: “Painkillers give me nightmares.”

And man, is he due for some ugly ones when he finally closes his eyes.

“Yes,” Cougar murmurs. “I remember. I brought sedatives.”

“That’s my little Mexican boy scout.” When Cougar snorts, the fist around Jensen’s heart relaxes a few degrees. “You, uh. You think it’ll help?”

“I will wake you if they don’t.”

It’s as good a guarantee as he’s getting. They’re up against a wall, Cougar’s not going to yield, and a steady diet of horror movies has told Jensen that he can’t hold out against sleep forever. The nightmares will probably come if he takes the pills or not. It’s just a matter of how miserable he makes Cougar until then. Cougar, who’s watched him suffer long enough.

The bastards who tortured him had put it on video feed, after all. Jensen knows Clay and Cougar enough to know that they didn’t look away, even when they should’ve. It’s their ruthless hard version of love.

And because Jensen knows (or has learned) how to give that love right back, he holds open his hand for the pills. His heart is racing. 

“Gracias,” Cougar says, handing him the three pills and a tepid cup of water to wash them down. His eyes are heavy-lidded, but he watches to make sure Jensen doesn’t try to tuck the pills between cheek and gum.

“De nada,” Jensen replies, too tired to snark, and closes his eyes. 

Cougar doesn't let him go.


End file.
